


A Fine Fixation

by twinsarein



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Necks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: Arthur discovers he has a thing for the nape of Merlin's neck.





	A Fine Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for someone's fandom_stocking in 2016, unfortunately I can't find out who it was intended for. One of the things asked for was nape porn, and one of the pairings was Arthur/Merlin. I've never written them before, but thought I'd give it a try. Hopefully, people like it.

Arthur is brooding. He knows he is, and he hates it. Hates that he’s been reduced to this by a servant. Even if he is rapidly coming to see that servant as his best friend. Not that he’ll be saying that out loud anytime soon. If ever. Friends with a servant - his father will beat him bloody for feeling such a thing for someone so far beneath his station, and then he’ll banish Merlin...if he's feeling benevolent.

 

Sitting in his high-backed chair in front of the fire, legs splayed in front of him, a large, thick fur wrapped around his naked body to finish absorbing the water from his bath, Arthur’s gaze is fixated on the back of Merlin’s neck. The long, smooth, white neck, bent over and polishing the armor Arthur had been wearing earlier. The neck which is to blame for how he’s acting. What he’s feeling.

 

Merlin is seated on a stool, just to the left of Arthur’s chair and much lower, so Arthur has a very good view of the curve of it, the vulnerability inherent in it. The short, black hairs at the hairline. Arthur would like to feel them tickling the tips of his fingers. He wonders if they’re as silky as they look.

 

Continuing with his brooding, Arthur can’t believe how obsessed he’s getting. It’s all Merlin’s fault! If he hadn’t been so lazy, he would have walked around to the other side of Arthur to help him secure his armor that day two weeks ago. Instead, he’d reached across, putting the nape of his neck right under Arthur’s very nose.  That wouldn’t have been so bad, except that he’d noticed a spot on the armor, so had whipped off his neckerchief to rub it out.

 

It had been all Arthur could do not to bend a little, open his mouth, and suck up a mark. He’d gone so hard, so fast, he’d barely been able to stay on his feet. Luckily, his lower armor had already been on, or that would have gotten embarrassing.  

 

As it was, he’d entirely missed whatever Merlin had been saying at the time. His voice had turned into a kind of buzz in Arthur’s ears. All he’d been able to think about was that soft, vulnerable skin so tantalizingly close.

 

Since then, he’s done everything he could to get a glimpse, sometimes even daring to touch. The touches haven’t been quite what he wants - a comradely grasp to the nape of the neck, or giving Merlin an exasperated shake by the neck.  

 

Actually, thinking about it, how he’s touched hasn’t been the problem, It’s been the intent behind the touches. That’s what he wants to change. He very much wants to grasp the back of Merlin’s neck again, but instead of a quick squeeze and release, he wants to use the hold to pull Merlin closer, to put the heat he’s feeling into his eyes.

 

What Arthur really wants to know, is how Merlin would react if the touches come from a lover. Would he…

 

“Arthur, what are you doing?”

 

The sharply asked question brings Arthur out of his reverie with a start. He’s been so lost in thought, he never noticed his fingers putting his thoughts into action without his permission.  They have been trailing along the nape of Merlin’s neck, just like he’s been dreaming of for what seems so long. Arthur takes in a sharp breath, dismayed that he’s given himself away. Surely he can salvage this.

 

Looking down at himself in thought, trying to think of an inspired excuse, Arthur notices his cock is hard, and peeking up through the fur he has wrapped around his body. He’s been so focused on Merlin he never noticed until now. How is that even possible?

 

Moving his hand, which had  _ still _ been caressing Merlin’s neck, Arthur moves the fur to cover up his telltale reaction.  Doing so does give him the inspiration he is looking for, however. “Your neck is filthy. I bet the rest of you is, too. My bath water is still there, and I dare say, still fairly warm. Go avail yourself of it.”

 

Merlin’s neck finally unbends, as he straightens up to turn and glare at Arthur. “You’re asking me to get in your dirty, used water?”

 

Arthur almost laughs at the indignation in Merlin’s tone. He always enjoys how Merlin doesn’t treat him with the same deference as everyone else. Still, the pretense must be maintained. “No. I’m  _ ordering _ you to go get clean. If I have to look at you, you should at least be presentable.”

 

Sputtering, Merlin drops the armor, and it hits the stone floor with a clang. He starts to surge up, but Arthur reacts almost instantly.  He kicks the stool from under Merlin, catching him before he falls, and brings both of them to their feet. 

 

Of a height, their lips are scant inches from each other when the move is finished.  Arthur sees the realization creep into Merlin’s eyes.  Not sure how Merlin would react if he did anything about it, he grasps Merlin’s shoulders, and turns him around.  With a little shove, he maneuvers Merlin to the bath.

 

“Arthur, what’s gotten into you? I’m not going to get naked in front of you. You’d...you’d make fun.”

 

Fair point. That does sound like something he’d do. Before. Not something he’ll do now, although, Merlin has no way of knowing that. “Fine, I’ll turn around.”

 

Suiting actions to words, Arthur steps away from Merlin and turns his back. He does make sure to keep his body between Merlin and the door, however. There’s a huff behind him, which makes him smile, and then a rustling of clothes and a splashing of water which has him swallowing hard. “

There, I’m in! Are you happy?”

 

Turning around, Arthur throws him a small cloth. “I will be when you’ve made some effort to get presentable.”

 

Merlin catches the cloth out of the air, and then just stares at Arthur.

 

Arching a brow at Merlin, Arthur crosses his arms over his chest. “Well?”

 

Eyes wide with apprehension, and something else Arthur isn’t sure of, Merlin shifts in the water. “Are you going to just...stand there, and watch me?”

 

Arthur shifts himself as his hard cock gets even harder under the fur at really taking in all the bare skin on display. The feeling of the fur sliding on his engorged flesh is… Arthur shakes his head to clear it. Merlin has asked a question, and he tries to remember what it was. He stares at Merlin, and sees Merlin’s pupils dilate under his gaze and red spread downward, from his face to his neck, and then over his chest.

 

Making sure the fur stays wrapped around him, Arthur stalks over to his bed and lies down, putting his hands under his head. Refusing to think of that heat under his hands if he grasped the nape of Merlin’s neck to bring him closer. “Go on. Take your bath. We can...chat, while you wash.”

 

“Chat.”

 

Merlin says it without inflection, and yet Arthur hears the incredulity coming through clearly. Neat trick. He’ll have to remember it. Meanwhile, he shifts to see Merlin, without being obvious about it. “Yes. Chat. Such as...I don’t know...what have you and Gaius been up to? Have you broken anything of mine I don’t know about, yet? How are you coming with polishing my supply of weapons downstairs? Things like that.”

 

There’s a laugh in Merlin’s voice as he responds. “That isn’t a chat, Arthur. It’s an interrogation.”

 

Merlin had never turned around when Arthur had come over to his bed, and he’s glad for it. He can watch Merlin all he wants, can see the back of his neck, and that laugh does interesting things as his shoulders shake with it. For someone who looks so skinny while dressed, Merlin has a surprising number of muscles. It makes him imagine what it would be like, to be with someone closer to his own size and strength.

 

Sometimes the Knights would do a bit, and Arthur has to admit he wished he could join in, but a quick grope isn’t the same as what he is thinking of with Merlin. Besides, none of the knights would dare to treat him in any way other than their prince. Merlin, though, he already treats him nothing like a prince. He can’t help but want to know how that would translate under the sheets…

 

Arthur’s musing break off when there is a louder than usual splash. “There. I’m done. Is there something for me to dry off with?”

 

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, Arthur’s standing beside the tub before he even realizes he’s moved. “Hold on. You haven’t washed...you haven’t done the back of your neck. That’s what started this whole thing, after all.” Not wasting the prime opportunity, Arthur trails a finger over the back of Merlin’s neck, and Arthur shivers. Those small hairs are as silky as he thought they'd be. “I can still see the grime. Wash back here.”

 

“I...can’t see back there.  Why should I care if it’s dirty?  If it matters to you so much, you...you wash it.”

 

The dripping cloth is passed over Merlin’s shoulder, and Arthur looks at it with bemusement. On the one hand, he’s the prince. He doesn’t wash other people. That’s a knee-jerk reaction, however, because on the other hand, what a perfect excuse to touch more.

 

Taking the cloth, Arthur notices a fine tremor in Merlin’s hand. And a moment ago...had his voice sounded breathy? He’s certainly been hesitating and stuttering more than usual. Slowly, Arthur brings the cloth up and brushes it over Merlin’s nape, his senses on high alert.

 

The gasp from Merlin is silent, but Arthur feels it in the fingertips resting on Merlin’s skin. If he hadn’t been paying attention, waiting for...any reaction, he may have missed it, but he doesn’t. He may have passed off the ripples in Merlin’s back as from the cold, too, but together with other clues he’s greedily counting, he knows that isn’t it.

 

Keeping up the pretense, Arthur rubs the cloth in circles slowly over the bit of Merlin he’s so fixated on. As Merlin’s trembling gets more pronounced, though, Arthur lets the cloth slide down Merlin’s back, into the water. Then, his runs his nails, lightly, over the skin that’s as soft as he suspected it would be. “There. I think you’re all clean, now.”  

 

Leaning forward, his fur covered chest just touching Merlin’s bare back, Arthur speaks in a husky whisper, right into Merlin’s ear. “How does it feel?”

 

A small moan slips from Merlin’s mouth, and he leans back into Arthur, so Arthur feels more of his weight. Arthur automatically slips an arm around him to support him, and then decides he likes it there and tightens his grip. “Merlin? Merlin, tell me if you don’t want this. Tell me to stop.”

 

“Don’t.” When nothing else comes immediately, Arthur starts to reluctantly loosen his grip, but then Merlin takes a shuddering breath and clutches at Arthur’s arm. “Don’t stop. Please.” Then, he leans further back into Arthur and drops his head forward.

 

Arthur takes his own shuddering breath. Just like two weeks ago, he has that beautiful neck right under his mouth, but this time… Leaning forward, Arthur places a gentle kiss on that vulnerable curve, and then bites down hard enough to leave a mark, but not break the skin.

 

His reward is a cry from Merlin, and an arm coming up around to loop around the back of Arthur’s neck. Opening his eyes, although he doesn’t remember closing them, he has the pleasure of seeing Merlin’s body arched up in his new position, all the way down to the small trail of hair at his navel. He wishes he could see below the surface, but the water is churning, and he can’t make anything out.

 

Soothingly, he runs his tongue over the red mark already vivid on Merlin’s nape.  Good thing Merlin wears that red kerchief most of the time.  Breathing harder, Arthur sucks up a different kind of mark, and is rewarded with another wordless cry.

 

The fur slips off his body, and it’s his turn to cry out, as Merlin’s bare back touches his front, brushes against the hard points of his nipples. This situation is quickly going in directions that were unthinkable just a short while ago. Arthur isn’t complaining, though. In fact, he is quite looking forward to finding out how far Merlin is willing to let him go in numerous directions.


End file.
